My Daddy the Hero
by The Potters of the Future
Summary: Nelly Rider daughter of Alex Rider will discover that her dad is not the ordinary guy he pretends to be!
1. When's Mummy Coming Home?

When's Mummy Coming Home?

Hiya my name's Eleanor Anne Rider. But if you call me that I'll set my daddy on you! My daddy is Alex Rider but he's away working a lot. I wish he wouldn't when he is I miss him and so does mummy. My mummy is Carrie-Rose and she'd very upset when daddy goes away. I think Carrie-Rose is the prettiest name ever! But I'll tell you a secret: daddy says mine is prettier. When mummy heard daddy saying this she hit him and he grinned. I don't get that I know when Ian hit me it made me cry it must be something about being all grown up! When daddy doesn't have to work the seven of us have a great time. Daddy always has games and what mummy calls "words of wiz-dome". Then there's mummy who likes to read us all stories and have family activities like visiting the park. John who is my oldest brother is always playing sport so he's always home late. Daddy says he was named after his daddy. I've never met daddy's mummy or daddy but I see Granny and Grandpa all the time. When I asked mummy when daddy was away she said daddy's mummy and daddy had gone to heaven. I asked if I could go to heaven to visit my other granny and grandpa. Mummy explained that it was a place you went when you were old and the time had come for you to move on. I feel sorry for daddy that he hasn't got a mummy or daddy like we all have. Helen, named after daddy's mummy, and Jackie are twins which means they look the same with their dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. Daddy says they look a lot like mummy. But I look like daddy – I'm glad. Ian is six and looks like daddy with mummy's hair. At least that's what Granny says.

John, Helen, Jackie and Ian are in school now. I'm glad because after my porridge daddy came home so I can have him all to myself. He called mummy to tell her he was back then the babysitter left. I'm hiding in the laundry basket in mummy and daddy's room playing hide and seek with my daddy. But daddy's too good he pretended not to notice me but I knew so giggled. He pounced on me and tickled me so hard I cried.

The phone went off and daddy picked me out of the clothes taking me to the phone in the hall. I had my arms around daddy's neck and noticed blue and purple marks and a dark red ouchie on his neck. I asked him what it was he told me that he'd had a nasty fall. I kissed it – mummy says that a kiss makes it all better. Daddy gave me a huge smile while listening to the phone.

'No she can't ve,' daddy said with a look I'd never seen on anyone's face it made me hurt just looking at him. I gave him a tighter hug hoping he was okay. Then he wore a look that he had never worn that was worse than when Ian broke into his study. 'How had this been allowed to happen? I want a full investigation done, now! And whoever is responsible for this lapse in security will have hell to pay!'

He then clicked off the phone looking very tired gave me a smile which didn't look at happy like smiles should be and put on my worst pink jacket before taking me out to our silver seven-seated Volvo. I was strapped in right behind daddy. In all this time he hadn't said a word. I was scared – I'd never seen daddy like this, ever! He was always so cool.

'Daddy what wong?' I asked in what I think is a very brave voice.

'I'm sorry Nelly,' said daddy.

'What did you do?' I asked not understanding.

'Its mummy,' said Daddy sounding like a frog, 'she's dead,' he said.

Mummy was dead! How could mummy be dead? Tears were now rolling down daddy's cheeks. If daddy was crying then why were my cheeks wet. I was crying too. We got my brothers and sisters' school where daddy wiped away his tears and comforted me. Picking me up me spoke to the lady in the door. She gave me and daddy sympathetic looks and dad walked down the shiny hall me in his strong arms.

Daddy got Ian from his class where he was painting. I could see what must be a tree and a bird looking nothing like Jackie's who was great at drawing and painting and stuff. We got a strange look from the teacher in gold coloured glasses but Ian came out with green paint on his eyebrow. I thought it was funny but daddy cleaned Ian's face with his now green hanky. Ian's friends stared at us.

'Cone on lets collect your brothers and sisters,' daddy said taking Ian's clean hand.

Helen and Jackie were in the room opposite Ian's sitting on the floor with the rest of the class. Jackie was holding a rattle in her hand saying that her favourite thing in her room was her running shoes. Jackie was as sporty as daddy and John. The old teacher with shiny, green eyes looked at us when daddy walked through the door. She frowned at daddy's neck but next second two dark haired girls had flung their arms around daddy and me.

'What is this about Mr. Rider?' asked the scary lady.

'There's been a family crisis Ms. Gold I'm just gathering the children up.'

Helen and Jackie picked up their things and trailed behind the other three Riders to the other end of the school. When John saw them he looked embarrassed about us all being there. But happy that daddy was here.

'Hey dad what's up?' John said grinning.

'I'll explain at home,' sighed daddy.

John didn't say anything and grinned at the fact, as the oldest, he was allowed to sit in the front. We waited for daddy to belt us in before driving home to our seven bed roomed town house. Mummy and daddy had the biggest one painted mummy's favourite colour – lilac. Helen and Jackie had the two downstairs; Helen's was purple and Jackie's greenie-blue. I had the room next to mummy and daddy's painted bright purple. John had the one at the top of the stairs painted bright yellow. Ian had the one opposite mine painted bright green. The other one opposite mummy and daddy's was pale brown with two beds for anyone who came to stay.

Daddy went through the locks so unlike anyone else I knew apart from Uncle Ben's. He got me, Ian and Jackie black current, Helen and John orange, and put the kettle on for his coffee. I knew daddy was upset because daddy only ever drank that disgusting drink when he was upset. As the six of us sat sipping our drinks Ian asked the question that made me wanna cry again.

'When's mummy coming home?'


	2. Mummy's Not Coming Home

Mummy's Not Coming Home

Daddy gave a heavy sigh putting his white mug down.

'Mummy's not coming home,' daddy begun.

'Why not?' demanded John angrily.

'Have you two fallen out?' asked Jackie.

'Because Sarah's parents fell out,' said Helen.

'And her dad moved to Scotland,' said Jackie.

'Is mum moving to Scotland,' the twins said together.

'No,' sighed daddy holding me close to him, 'she's not coming home because she'd dead,' daddy's voice was barely above a whisper.

I watched as John looked stunned, Helen and Jackie flung their arms around each other sobbing. Ian and I stared at one another in silence. Daddy put me on his seat and put his arms around Helen and Jackie.

'But you listen to me all five of you we will get through this. We're Rider. We're strong. And we'll always have each other. And just remember she's in heaven watching over us.'

'Dad what happened?' asked John; I'd always thought he was the smart one.

'There was a shooting in town mum got caught in the middle of it, I'm sorry,' said daddy and the sorry seemed to be guilty.

'It wasn't your fault,' said John at once.

Daddy shook his head, closing his eyes, not saying anything.

I had on a silky black dress which I had worn to mummy's Christmas, work party last year. I was sitting in my seat not eating. Ian and John were in black school shoes, trousers, white shirt, and black bow ties. They were eating their heaps of pancakes so fast I could not see their hands. Jackie was wearing a pair of black jeans, black trainers and a black t-shirt with her hair in the pleats she hated but mummy loved. Daddy was trying to convince me and Helen to eat something. Helen had just flung on her school uniform not caring enough about what she was wearing to bother choosing clothes. Daddy was looking at Helen worried, Helen always made sure she wore what was "in". Daddy was the only one eating as he usually would dressed up in a black suit, white shirt and bow tie which mummy had said was 'very James Bond'. The thought of mummy made me wanna cry. Daddy saw and put an arm around me.

'Come on let's go,' said daddy.

Daddy picked me up and took Ian by the hand. I snuggled close to daddy smelling the smell so different to mummy's flowery smell. He buckled me, and Ian in. Then he checked John (who for once didn't say he was being treated like a baby), Helen who looked half-asleep, and Jackie who didn't try and race off somewhere exciting. We sat in silence as daddy drove us to the church; mummy's seat remained unfilled.

Daddy, John, Helen and Jackie got out quickly. Daddy got me out and by this time Ian was on the other side without his usual joke. Daddy carried me into the church where we sat right at the front. I refused to get off his lap, not that he tried to stop me or tell me I was a big girl. Ian sat to out left and Helen to our right. John sat at the end of the isle trying to look brave but I could tell he was about to start crying. Jackie sat in between them her arms wrapped around them. Granny and Grandpa sat ib the other side with Aunt Jess and Uncle Chris looking sombre at the loss of their older sister.

The man in white stood up to talk but I didn't understand what he was saying only recognising mummy's name. The small crown gathered outside afterwards as my family threw mud on her coffin getting muck on the white. Mummy would be cross in heaven she hated any sort of muck. Uncle Tom an old school friend of daddy's, and my godfather, gave daddy a pat on the back before leaving me, granny, grandpa, aunt Jess, Uncle Chris, daddy, John, Helen, Jackie and Ian with mummy one last time.

The gravestone was smooth and white with a strange texture that I knew mummy would like. There were squiggly gold line I knew was writinh but couldn't read and a doggie inside a love heart. I knew doggies were mummy's favourite animal. I looked up at the cloudy sky and hoped mummy was pleased with her grave. I whispered in daddy's ear.

'What does it say?' I asked wanting to know mummy was being looked after.

'Here lies Carrie-Rose Naomi Rider, loving daughter, loyal wife, devoted mother, who was so tragically taken from us, we will remember you,' said daddy in a soft voice as Helen sniffed. 'Goodbye Carrie I'll do my best,' daddy said but I didn't understand what he meant.

'It is not right that a parent should outlive their child but I know you've left behind five wonderful children,' said Granny sadly.

Grandpa opened and shut his mouth several times and seemed just able to choke out a 'goodbye,' before he started crying.

Aunt Jess placed a circle of white roses on the ground, 'you always were my favourite sister.'

I thought mummy was Aunty Jess' only sister.

'You always looked after me at school,' said Uncle Chris softly.

'Oh mum why did you have to go?' asked John painfully.

Daddy moved faster than I thought possible over to John placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort my oldest brother who was crying silently.

'I wish you were here,' said Ian.

'Goodbye mum,' said Jackie.

'We'll miss you,' said Helen which was the first thing she'd said since daddy had broken the news.

I slipped out of daddy's hands and ran up to where the fresh dirt was.

'Goodbye mummy,' was all I said.

Suddenly I realised mummy was not coming back. No more freshly baked cakes or warm flowery hugs. Daddy took me in his arms and we returned home all in varying states of tears to where mummy would never come back.


	3. Look After Your Little Sister

Look After Your Little Sister

I woke up at like five in the morning today. Looking at my neon orange alarm clock I could see it was four fifty one. I knew I should just go back to sleep. But I was too excited: today was the day that I began high school. So I leapt out of bed pulling on the dark green trousers, pale yellow blouse, green ties that was the Oakfields Private Secondary School Uniform. I left what Helen described as the hideous dark green shoes for later.

I padded down the hallway in my glow in the dark yellow socks ignoring the cameras that had been there all my life. I slipped into the sterile white kitchen where dad was already eating a big bowl of muesli. Seeing me he smiled not looking at all surprised to see me there. I sometimes wondered if there was anything that could happen which would take dad by surprise. Dad hurried to make me black current jam on toast and poured me a glass of milk. We both knew I was old enough to make my own breakfast. But I liked the gesture.

'I see you're excited,' smiled dad in his way.

'Of course,' I rolled my eyes munching the delicious Best of Both toast.

'Well I'm going to do some exercises,' said dad.

I knew he would be going to the basement where there was lots of equipment for exercise. Only dad could open it with fingerprint recognition software. For the rest of the house bar his study all our family's fingerprints had been keyed in so we could move about in the house. I asked if I could come. In the gym I stayed on a mat watching whilst dad lifted immensely heavy weights.

At quarter to seven dad had a shower to wash out all the sweat. He came down not long after having waking up my four older sibling and Jake. Jake Daniels was dad's friend and colleague, Ben Daniels, son. When Uncle Ben was away on business, as he was now, dad looked after Jake. Shortly after John and Ian came down to a small pile of crumpets each. At half-seven Helen and Jackie came down and begun eating the Wheet-A-Bix that dad had made them. Dad left to hurry Jake up who was well known for sleeping in and always made the rest of us late. Jake came down a few minutes later his red hair all over the place, dark brown eyes still had sleep in them in his boxers and white vest. Dad forced cereal and coffee on Jake.

At quarter past eight we piled into our new Volvo, still with seven seats. We got stuck in traffic as usual. It would have been much quicker to walk but dad refused to let us. Gran said it was just a quirk of dad's but I couldn't help feeling as if it was something more. We got dropped off just as the bell rang at eight-thirty-five. The six of us spilled out of the car as dad rolled down his window.

'John, Jake enjoy your last year of school. Ian good luck with the rugby – you'll do brilliantly. Nelly, enjoy your first day of high school. Helen and Jackie you have exams this year so work hard. Look after your little sister.'

I pouted knowing dad was talking about me; I could look after myself. Dad smiled, rolled up the window and drove away. John the popular one was greeted by a big pile of friends as they moved to their registration class in the science corridor. Jake tagged along after him. Helen and Jackie not wanting to be late raced up the stairs leaving Ian and I alone.

'You go to the assembly hall and will get divided into the right classes,' he smiled and followed the twins upstairs.

I didn't need to be told where to go having been to prize giving's before. Entering the assembly hall where the hundred new students were milling about waiting for directions. I slipped in between a girl whose hair was lighter than mine in a dark green skirt, frilly yellow blouse, and her tie done up perfectly and high heeled dark green boots. And a boy I recognized from primary; Ryan Adams.

The headmistress a very, old woman, thin as a rake, her face severe. She spoke in low tones that kept the whole year silent. I was put in class C with another seven girls and twelve boys. We followed the teacher, Miss Alderton, who taught history upstairs. I sat near the door with a greasy, black haired boy who just scowled at me continually even when I introduced myself.

At twenty-to-nine I went to my English class with the rest of the class. Miss Rose was a young, teacher just out of University with honey coloured hair, golden skin, hazel eyes and a spring in her step. She joyfully told us that we were going to do a project on our selves for the next week split into two sections: 1. About Me and 2. My Family.

I started work at once plugging in my pen-drive onto the laptop I had borrowed from the massive school library.

_The Story of_

**Eleanor Anne Rider**

And I copied a picture of myself to the left of the purple background. It was the image that dad took when we went Scuba diving in Spain. I was wearing a black wet suit my blonde hair sopping wet. I was grinning like a mad woman my chocolate brown eyes shining. The Spanish sun was setting behind me as I licked a strawberry ice cream that dad had treated us to. That holiday was fun we'd gone a few years ago when I was seven.


	4. This is My Dad

This is My Dad

The next Monday after Rachael Tyler had finished telling my class about her holiday in California with her mother and step-brother. I got up with my purple slideshow. The first slide I introduced myself.

'Hello I am Eleanor Anne Rider know as Nelly. This,' I pointed at the photo of me, 'is me four years ago on a Scuba diving holiday in Spain.' I clicked onto the next slide which said About Me underlined. I had a mix of pictures and white writing on the slide. 'My birthday is the eighteenth of August,' I pointed to a picture of me at the age of five; hair curled in a Chinese fashion and a turquoise dress that dad had got us on a business trip to China a few weeks before. Dad always tried to be there for our birthdays, Christmases and important dates. He didn't always succeed. But at least he tried. 'This was my fifth birthday where dad began teaching us Chinese which we're now fluent in.'

Miss Rose's eyes shot up at this, 'and how many languages can you speak Nelly?' she asked.

'English of course, Chinese,' I clicked onto the next slide where there were six photos. On of us when we were in a boat on a Chinese river a week after my fifth birthday. 'French,' I pointed at the photo when I was eight in front of the Eiffel tower. 'German,' I pointed to us in front of Berlin wall when I was ten. 'Spanish,' I pointed to a photo of dad and I scuba diving in Spain when I was seven. 'Greek,' I pointed to a photo of our latest holiday on a Greek island. 'Italian,' I pointed at me and John in a Bull ring when I was nine years old. 'Though I'm not fluent in Greek yet but by next summer I'm sure I will be.'

'So you're fluent in English, French, Spanish, Italian, Chinese and German, and you're learning Greek,' said Miss Rose in shock.

'Dad's fluent in more – thirty-six I think,' I shrugged. 'But we are always going camping, scuba diving, swimming, abseiling, archery, skiing, snowboarding, skate boarding, water rafting, boating, water skiing. Dad took my brother John shooting a week ago and he says that on the October break we're going to Cornwall to go surfing. It'll be cold but fun,' I grinned, 'suppose I'm a bit of an outdoors person.' I clicked onto the next slide where I was suspended by ropes in a white night dress opposite a boy in green tights. We were both ten, 'I've been going to drama lessons since I was eight. This was the Christmas performance of Peter Pan – I was Wendy,' I added unnecessarily. I then brought seven gold medals, one silver and two bronze. 'I have been going to karate since I was two and am now a brown belt so you don't want to bully me,' I laughed looking over at a bunch of fiver, very big and even more stupid boys who were already making a reputation as our year's bullies. I decided not to mention that dad had taught me how to hack in the summer or that I'd learned to gamble at the age of four. I had the feeling that the teacher would be less than impressed at this. So I moved onto the next slide, My Family. There was a picture of all of us at Christmas when I was two: the last Christmas mum was alive. 'This is the last Christmas with my mum.'

'Not like you so left,' snickered Angus Farrow to his cronies.

'My mum died when I was three,' I said resisting the urge to beat the boy up.

'Mr. Farrow,' Miss Rose spoke quietly, 'will you please wait outside until Nelly has finished.'

I smiled at Miss Rose, 'thanks, Miss.'

'No problem,' she said curtly, 'please continue.'

'This is my dad,' I said as a picture of a handsome man with blonde hair and brown eyes appeared on the screen.

'Well don't you look like your father,' smiled Miss Rose.

'That's what everyone says,' I agreed, 'his name is Alexander John Rider born to John and Helen Rider who died when dad was three months old. Dad was brought up by my Great Uncle Ian who died when Dad was a teenager. Dad's thirty-eight and married my mum when he was eighteen and she was twenty-one. Three years later John was born, then the twin, then Ian and last of all me. Mum was killed when I was three.' The look Miss Rose wore was enough to stop any comments. 'He works in the Royal and General in foreign finance or something and is accident prone. He's completely obsessed with security,' I smiled and moved onto the next slide of mum who was in the hospital holding a pink blanket with a tuft of blonde hair I knew to be me. 'This is the day I was born,' I smiled. 'Mum was a vet and loved animals. She was killed when she was only thirty-three. I don't remember her much though,' I said sadly. Then I clicked onto the next slide where my oldest brother John was in the height of fashion, 'this is my eldest brother John Alexander Rider. He's seventeen and wants to do Russian, which he is fluent in, and Chemistry in Oxford. He is fluent in two more languages than me; Russian and Egyptian. He has always been obsessed with James Bond – dad always frowns at this. But he can't stop John's enthusiasm for joining the army after university. He is a black belt and football team captain.' I moved onto the next slide with Helen on it (you could only tell it was Helen because she was wearing a dress like Jackie never would). 'This is one of my fifteen year old twin sisters, Helen Fiona Rider. You can only tell because Jackie's a tomboy so would never were a velvet dress even to a Christmas party. Helen is the only one out of the six of us who has quit karate. She like the adventurous holidays but doesn't like learning to beat people up. She doesn't think its appropriate or something,' Miss Rose nodded seemingly agreeing with Helen's statement. I moved onto Jackie, 'this is Jackie Clare Rider who loves running and is the best female under sixteen for both long distance and sprint running. She is a black belt and can speak the same languages as John and Helen.' I them moved onto the last slide in the show, 'this is Ian Thomas Rider. He is fourteen and a black belt too. He too can speak eight launguages; English-'

'Obviously,' someone muttered.

I ignored the class and continued speaking, 'French, Egyptian, Spanish, German, Chinese, Italian, and Russian. Thanks for listening.'

I sat in my seat beside my new friend Ariel Walker a beautiful black haired girl with bright green eyes and olive toned skin. She looked more like he Italian mother than her rich father who was in charge of a computer business who paid for Ariel to come here. She smiled at me but was the only one who did. I hadn't realised before how unusual the lessons that dad taught me were.

'Well thank you Nelly,' said Miss Rose looking at me in shock. 'Jamie could you tell Angus he can come back in,' Miss Rose spoke to the boy nearest the door.

'Yes Miss,' the black haired boy replied.

Before long my class returned to normal.


	5. Will I Get to Meet Your Dad?

5. Will I Get To Meet Your Dad?

Today in registration class our teacher, Miss Alderton, handed us out letters for our year's parents evening. I felt a rush of sadness at this; dad was still out of the country. I don't know where he is but Uncle Ben is with him too. This is the first time that John has been left in charge. Dad left him in charge with Granny and Grandpa popping in every few days to check we were oaky. But to have a parents evening with dad away on business was upsetting. I looked down at my appointment slip:

Times: Subject: Teacher:

7:00 Registration Miss Alderton

7:10 Maths Dr. Barnes

7:20 English Miss Rose

7:30 Social Subjects Mr. Jenkins

7:40 Foreign Languages Madam Mason

7:50 Religious Education Mrs. Burns

8:00 Physical Education Miss Clark

8:10 Science Mr. Dawson

8:20 Physical, and Social Education Mr. Turner

8:30 Creative Arts Ms. Flowers

8:40 Computing Mr. Watt

Please let us know if you are able to attend.

'So will I get to meet your dad?' asked Ariel from beside me.

'I don't know it depends whether dad's back next week,' I replied.

'Sorry,' said Ariel.

'Gran will be there,' I said.

But to my surprise when we arrived at the gates expecting the limo that always picked us up when both dad and Uncle Ben were away on business. Instead there were two cars; the seven-seater Volvo that dad owned and the black convertible. Jake got in beside Uncle Ben while we fought over the front seat, apart from Helen. I won and ended up in the front. I looked at dad who was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a white jumper. I looked for any sign of damage: I was relieved to be unable to detect anything.

'So dad where were you this time?' grinned Ian.

'Scotland,' replied dad shrugging.

'What were you doing there?' asked Helen interested.

'Market research,' shrugged dad.

'Dad,' I said.

'Nelly,' smiled Dad kindly.

'Our parents evening is a week tomorrow. Will you be around?' I asked nervously.

'Of course,' smiled dad, 'anything for my baby.'

Jackie snickered and I glared. I knew they all saw me as the baby because I was the youngest. But that didn't mean I had to enjoy it! I didn't speak to any of them on the drive home and as soon as dad unlocked the house I stormed off to my room. I locked the door and planned to spend the whole night in here. If dad didn't have other plans.

'Sorry I called you my baby,' dad said sitting on the edge of my bed. 'You are always going to be my youngest and sometimes I forget how big you're getting but I'm not going to let you miss dinner. Now let me see your parents evening slip.'

I handed it over with a smile on my face glad that I had my day with me. He signed and left me to my thoughts. The next day I handed it into Miss Alderton who looked pleased. Miss Alderton knew my dad was often away. By the next week I was getting nervous at the reception dad would get. But I was excited. Dad left Ben and Jake in charge.

We arrived at school at five to seven to milling teachers, pupils and parents. I quickly ran to introduce Ariel to dad. He smiled at the olive toned girl holding out a hand. Ariel brought her mum over to meet me and dad. Before we split up; Ariel and Mrs. Walker to see our Foreign Languages teacher and I to see Miss Alderton in the P.E. office.

'Mr. Rider, Nelly, please sit down,' she smiled at the two of us.

'Please call me Alex Miss Alderton,' dad smiled.

'Your daughter had a perfect attendance and always gives to charity on a Friday. She and Ariel are inseparable in class. I can't give an accurate summary of her classed but they all seem very impressed with her.'

'What can I say my daughter is wonderful,' smiled dad.

'Dad,' I complained blushing.

'I can see you dote on your daughter without spoiling Nelly,' smiled Miss Alderton making me blush even more.

We then left and went along the corridor to meet with Dr. Barnes the maths teacher who praised me for my ability to work out complex equations well above my age level. Miss Rose was perhaps the most excited and nervous about meeting my dad having heard so much from my class project. Dad threw me an annoyed glance at this – dad was always a very private man, absolutely hating anyone finding even the smallest details on our lives.

'So you're the famous Alex Rider?' smiled Miss Rose.

'Miss Rose,' smiled dad.

'She certainly is better at projects than essays or close reading. Much because of how many places you have taken her to.'

'Well you know what they say travel broadens the mind,' said dad calmly.

Next we visited Mr. Jenkins who complimented me on my knowledge of geography. Madam Mason and dad spoke in flawless French. Madam Mason couldn't believe that dad had managed to raise another foreign language expert. Mrs. Burns my R.E. teacher didn't have much to say about me. Miss Clark who took the girls of C and D for P.E. smiled and complimented me. Apparently I was fitter than a lot of the boys in my year. I grinned I knew I was better comes from a life time of karate. Mr. Dawson the science teacher was also very praising. Mr. Turner, however, frowned at dad.

'You know they miss you when you're gone?' asked Mr. Turner.

'Yes,' dad said quite calmly.

This seemed to infuriate Mr. Turner, 'yet you still work away even with the fact they have no mother?'

'Would you rather me not to work and us to be separated?' questioned dad and I could see that this idea hadn't occurred to Mr. Turner.

'Can't you find some kind of middle ground?' asked Mr. Turner a little desperately.

'I have,' assured dad, 'I spend a few months with them after every trip.'

'Okay,' said Mr. Turner to me he didn't sound convinced.

Apparently dad thought the same, 'do any of my children seem neglected to you?'

'No,' admitted Mr. Turner.

'Good now can we go?' he turned and without waiting for an answer walked out of the room.

I knew dad was furious but on the surface everybody else thought he was perfectly calm. I had no idea how dad could hide his emotions so well. Uncle Ben and all dad's work friends were the same.

'You don't like him,' I smirked not liking my P.S.E. teacher either.

'That obvious,' dad sighed not liking his emotions to be visible.

'To me,' I said, 'plus I feel the same and he was way out of line.'

'Thanks,' said dad but I could tell he was still worrying.

I took his hand and we walked to the creative arts suite. Mrs. Flowers was full of praise on my acting skills. I was going to be Sandy this summer. Dad had warned me he couldn't tell whether or not he would be able to make it. I didn't mind being used to this. I was not pleased that Miss Flowers just had to mention my appalling talent well not-talent in the drawing and painting area.

'I'm the same,' laughed dad encouragingly and I smiled.

We then finished with Mr. Watt the computer teacher who said I was brilliant on the computer.


	6. Dad Why are they Shooting at Us?

6. Dad Why are they Shooting at us?

It was a few months later and may had just begun. Dad was around for now but in a few weeks he would be heading for South America for a few weeks. Ben would be staying in dad's room and Jake would be staying in the spare room. John, Helen and Jackie were at home studying for their exams in a fortnight. Ian was at a late bight Rugby practice so dad agreed to take me out.

We had gone in dad's silver Porsche which I knew went faster than any police fast car. We were a few streets away from the car when it begun. A bunch of armed men had appeared on the corner block in black Ferraris. Before I had even noticed them dad had stiffened and pulled me behind him. I didn't understand what was going on but couldn't help but wonder if this was how mum felt before she'd been killed. Then I looked at dad whose muscles were rippling, he was balanced on the balls of his feet as though readying himself for a fight! Then I remembered that he was a black belt. But even a karate master like him didn't stand a chance against madmen with guns.

'Dad don't do anything, please,' I moaned; I just couldn't loose dad as well.

Then I heard one of the men shout something in a thick foreign accent that chilled me to the bones, 'RIDER!'

Rider? And the way dad was looking at them…. What did dad have to with madmen and guns? But I couldn't speak … I couldn't move. I was paralyzed with fear. But luckily dad was here. He lifted me into a fireman's lift. Any other time I would have protested but today I could only marvel at both my dad's strength and his ability to keep a cool head in a situation like this.

Suddenly I found myself on a leather seat with air blowing on my face. I was in a convertible. Dad hopped in beside me. Dad revved up the engine ignoring the shouts of the furious owner and the screams of those who had been caught in the gunfire. Dad rolled up the convertible roof. We had begun racing along the streets. I was relieved that we had some shelter from the bullets but wondered how much protection this car would offer us.

'Dad, why are they shooting at us?' I whispered.

Dad who never ignored me ever for once completely blanked me. He was in the process of rolling down the window. I saw him pull out a gun. He raced down the streets whilst shooting. I heard the bullets meet there targets no less than eight times before the gunshots died away. Then dad parked the car pulling me out. He pulled out his expensive phone.

'John?' so he had phoned home. 'Are you, Helen and Jackie okay?' a pause. 'Good,' he said sounding relieved. 'Is the house all locked up?' another pause. 'Good keep it that way, and don't answer the door!' He rang off the phone. 'Hello Coach Harrison is Ian there, good.' He rang off and redialled again, 'Harper are you there keep an eye on my home there's been a car chase,' again dad hung up, 'Waltins can you keep an eye on Ian for me since I've been involved in a car chase.' He dialled once again, 'police,' he said, 'the stolen car with a license plat SC05 WEZ is here just off Market Street, bye.'

He then took me by the hand and led me to the station. We got into a carriage in the middle. As it was late in the evening not many people were about. I couldn't help but remember the steely look in dad's eyes as he fired back at the gunmen. I wondered where dad's gun was. But more than that I wondered exactly who dad was!

'What happened dad?' I asked.

But once again I was ignored. Dad was now on the phone again, 'Maam I take it you know what happened.' "Maam"? Was this dad's boss? Then I jumped as dad shouted: I'd never heard dad so angry before! And I couldn't push away the memories that he had just killed a lot of people. 'Sorry is not good enough my daughter has just been caught in the line of fire. I know you have lost children to our line of work. But I swear if anything happens to my family ever again I shall not be responsible for my actions!' dad hung up. I looked at him frightened the ice in his voice was terrifying. Dad's eyes softened, 'are you okay Nelly?' he said softly.

'Don't call me "Nelly"!' I shouted, 'I loved you but you're a murdered!'

'Eleanor I haven't chance but until you know the full story don't judge me,' dad almost begged me but without changing his facial expression.

'Okay,' I crossed my arms, 'I'm waiting,' I said.

'Not here,' sighed dad.

'And why not?' I demanded angry again.

'Cameras,' replied dad.

'So you have broken the law!' I cried pain in my voice.

'No but it is very classified,' dad replied.

I relaxed slightly at the fact that dad was not a criminal. But wondered what he was involved in to make him lie to us.


	7. The Truth About Dad

7. The Truth About Dad

We got off at Liverpool Street Station. We walked down the street with dad's eyes flickering everywhere. We got to an old grey bank which said the Royal and General I knew that this was where dad claimed he worked. I saw dad scan the buildings opposite. There on the doorstep was an old stain which I guessed was blood. We walked up to the desk where I got very odd looks. Dad flashed a pass and we left for the upstairs floor.

On the top floor I saw three offices saying RIDER, CRAWLEY and JONES. Dad unlocked his office using handprint software. I looked around dad's office on the desk were four photos. One of them of mum and dad's wedding. Another of his parents wedding which seemed to have had a bit cut out of it. Another of when he was about my age with Uncle Tom, Great Uncle Ian, Jack and dad. The last of was one of our school photos when I was in nursery, Ian in Year Three, Helen and Jackie in Year Five, and John in Year Six. Dad looked exceptionally awkward not knowing what to say to me, well that made two of us.

'Would you like a seat?' dad asked.

'I would prefer to stand actually,' I knew I was being childish but in this moment I couldn't care less.

'Alright,' said dad 'would you like a J2O?' dad asked knowing it was my favourite drink.

'Fine,' I said and took a sip of the orange and passion fruit drink. 'Now talk,' I demanded.

'This isn't a bank,' dad said softly.

'Oh yeah then what is it?' I asked interested despite myself but covering it with sarcasm.

'The cover for Military Intelligence Six – Special Operation,' smiled dad.

I sank into the seat opposite dad shocked but recognising that it made sense: the security, the injuries, the long weeks away at work. Dad was a … 'you're a spy,' I whispered.

'Yes,' dad replied watching me warily. I wondered if this was how he observed his enemies.

'Since when?' I asked wondering how long dad has been deceiving me.

'Since I was fourteen,' dad shrugged as if this was normal. Maybe it was … I wondered what normal was to dad!

'Fourteen!' I shouted my mind reeling at the idea that the government used teenagers in the military. 'The government uses teenagers-' I began.

'No just me,' dad interrupted me. 'First, and only, and I don't expect it to happen again. Teenagers don't belong in my world.'

'Did mum know?' I asked.

'Of course she hid me while I was on the run from some assassins when I was seventeen – that's how we met,' smiled dad. 'She was still in University at this time. I hadn't even left school and we clicked. Ten months later we were married,' dad smiled to himself. I let him be caught up in his memories for a while before asking another question.

'Do the others know?' I couldn't help but ask.

'No your mum made me promise that I wouldn't tell any of you until each of you turn eighteen.'

'Oh,' I said until then not quite realising how much dad still loved my mother. I guessed this was why he'd never dated after mum died even though it had been over eight years. Dad wasn't over mum! I wondered if he ever truly would be.

'Come on let's go home,' dad took me by the hand like I was five again but for once I didn't complain. Not now I knew the truth about dad.


End file.
